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FKP Special Edition, Jon

Is it your first kiss that matters, or the first kiss between you and your true love? The person with whom you plan to spend your entire life certainly ranks as high as the juvenile fumblings of, well, juveniles. I met my love, my life partner as it was, and still is, lying on a friends couch on a sunny afternoon. I was in a manic fit, rendering me useless until an Adidas track suit was obtained. My amigo knew me and was unruffled by my rushing him out the door to obtain said track suit, however the young lady I was soon to kiss, for the first time, thought me quite unhinged.

Upon our return it was decided that libations would be in order, and so we trekked off to a nearby watering hole. Smoky bar, pool tables and youthful energy; a spark was definitely there. So we began a dance, the mating ritual of the North American Slacker Youth. Gen X crossed with Gen Y, which led to why not? We talked a while, drank some more. A flash of time and she sat next to me, then on my lap. Then we kissed, adrenaline surges and hormones flow. I knew she was the one.

Fifteen years later and we live three blocks from that bar. Don’t remember my very first kiss at all, but I will always remember that kiss.

"Garland Hope," 12

I was twelve
Too young to know
A kiss from a peck
Old enough to know
What love was suppose to be

His name was Sam
We were friends for a while
Then I hit second grade
And we weren't friends
Our mothers were friends

We were practically strangers
I moved away
He switched schools
We barely spoke

I always knew he had a crush on me

Do you know that reaction?
When you ask
Who loves you and
You don't like
That person,
The answer
To that
God dammed
Stupid question?

When you wince
At first then
Shudder than
Pretend you're
Okay with it
That you really
Weren't hoping
For someone else a –

Prettier more romantic
Someone else- but
Inside your stomach
Is twisting itself into
Sickness and you
Really don't want to
Face the Facts?

That's what happened when Sam kissed me

It was Christmas
His mother invited
My mother over
My mother made
A bee line for their
Kitchen, Sam
Was waiting for me
In the living room

I skipped in and attempted a summersault

I didn't see him at first
I was enthralled with
A TV tray covered
In photographs

His family were the kind
Of people that had
TV tray dinners
On weekends

His mother had
Pristine bathrooms
And his sheets was always
Crisp and cool

That's the only thing
I really remember from
That moment

And the actual kissing part of Corse

There was mistletoe
I guess it was cute
Now-my girlfriends
Tell me it was adorable
My first kiss under mistletoe
How ironic that he didn't
Believe in Christmas

It wasn't subtle
It wasn't adorable
It was awkward
And messy
And uncalled for

I did not see it
Coming, At all
No clue whatsoever
I was prepared for
An hour and a half
At an x-friends
House, I brought
A copy of Harry
Potter and
A blank copy of my math homework

He tried to make
It a great kiss
I think he
Thought it out
He studied for
It, maybe
He watched
Old movies
And spied
On people

But I wouldn't
Wish this kiss
On anyone

It was funny
And awkward
And he practically
Attacked me

It was gross
And sloppy
And humorous
And babyish
And unromantic
Overly spontaneous

I wished he asked
It was clumsy
And wrong
And inaccurate
And erroneous
And harsh
And so utterly

It was the only first kiss I'd ever imagine for me
But I wouldn't wish it on anyone else

ed note: this post was edited for length

Blue Summer Dress (Anon., 16)

We'd been dating for exactly two months and seven days. I was sixteen, and he was seventeen. Absurd, some would say, that we hadn't kissed yet. I agreed, but I was too nervous to do anything about it. We were at my Sweet 16 party in August, on the beach, at night. I wore a flowing blue summer dress; he was dressed in jeans and a blue button-down to match me. We were both barefoot. The sun was going down, the waves crashed onto the shore, and everything was perfect. It was warm outside, but not sticky. There was a slight breeze, but not enough to give me a chill. I don't remember what we were talking about. I don't know who saw, though theoretically, it could have been any of my thirty friends, my parents, or my brother. He leaned down to kiss me. I don't know how I knew it was coming, but I did. It was amazing. There were fireworks later than night over the ocean, and we sat, curled up, watching together. You may call it a cliché, but I didn't see it that way. It was the most memorable night of my life.

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